


Ambiguous Oppai Gokkun Fellatio Phenomenon

by Tas_tan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bukkake, Condom-eating, Cum Vomit, Excessive Semen, F/M, FaceFucking, Facial, Oral, Pubes, Sweat, Vomit, condom-play, cum from nose, fat tits on a sort of young but not exactly young woman, musk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: Some guy notices a bunch of unsightly dudes going into the same alleyway day after day. Turns out there's an ambiguously-aged girl with super fat tits inside a bathroom stall inside the alleyway with such an affinity for eating virile semen that she's willing to eat condoms whole and suck it out of guys' pubes in order to get it.That's it this time, I swear.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Ambiguous Oppai Gokkun Fellatio Phenomenon

**MY NIGGA, JUST SKIP TO THE MIDDLE OF PAGE 2**

If made to observe one locale in particular for a certain amount of time per day over the course of several weeks, even the most untrained and uninterested of individuals are liable to expose themselves to a number of ‘regularities’ related to it (the locale). From those who frequent it most often to the inner workings of its operation (assuming that the locale itself houses a form of establishment), minor details regarding the place are continually conveyed to these observers whether they intend to lay eyes on them or not.

This is natural; if something is exposed to perception—say within a major metropolitan area, for example—those situated to observe it will. And, if situated to do so for long enough, these individuals will inadvertently become as familiar with this ‘thing’ as those who experience it firsthand. 

More often than not, nothing comes of these observations. If the locale holds nothing of value or interest to its onlooker, the information that they acquire through observing it is typically thrown out of their minds in favor of ‘matters of importance’. Other times, these observations can result in an individual’s curiosity towards the locale itself being piqued to a state of irresistibility. Drawn atop a fence dividing their contentment from their desire to investigate, these individuals are held in place until something sufficiently inspiring pushes them to one side or the other.

Gulio—a vaguely Hispanic laborer tempted into an alley-swathed public restroom—was one such individual left on the fence. For several weeks, his eyes had been drawn to the mouth of an alleyway situated across the street from his favorite cafe. Observing the sights of the city in between checking his phone for notifications had become a pleasant means of passing the time for him; a temporary escape from the monotony of his daily grind. Over time, however, the emergence of a pattern at this location permanently fixated his attention on it alone.

Every other day for several hours on end, a very specific kind of male scuttled into the alley. Heavy-set, sweaty, and sometimes freshly equipped with a convenience store bag, these men entered into the alley only to reappear several minutes later far more disheveled than they had entered. 

Initially believing their presences to be a coincidence, Gulio intentionally adjusted the time at which he took his breaks to determine whether or not any differences would appear over a set period of time. None did; for a period of two hours (at the very least), the exact same brand of male scuttled in and out of the alley with only a handful of minutes in between them. 

Before long, his curiosity about the phenomenon necessitated action from him. Eventually, he committed the entirety of his latest lunch break to investigating the alley and its contents. Selecting a moment that allowed him to follow behind one of its portly patrons, he followed his lead from a safe distance until he disappeared through the worn face of a public restroom door nestled into a narrow left at the alley’s midsection.

Wise to the patterns followed by the men who ventured into the alley, Gulio stowed himself away at the opposite end of the vertical passage and sat in wait for his target to make his exit. As soon as he caught sight of his departure, he surged along the path laid out for him until the bright, humid, and distinctly rank confines of a forgotten public restroom consumed him.

Here, Gulio was tipped from his fence. Only a step or two into the restroom, the voice of a young woman called out to him from the battery of stalls nestled into its corner.

“Just a second! Come up to the door, but gimme like, 10 seconds or so before you come inside.” the voice requested. “I’m really sorry; it’s been kinda a busy lunch hour today, but I guess that’s nothing new…”

Gulio was no fool. After hearing the young woman’s voice, what he had stumbled onto and why it was so well-frequented became apparent to him. Only one thing could draw so many unsightly, out of place males out of their comfort zones so consistently; there was no need for him to repeat it to himself. Being a burly outlier himself, mental images of what was contained within one of the stalls began to flicker within his mind at the same moment his ears picked up the voice’s feminine qualities.

Despite this knowledge, he progressed forward. As requested, he moved across the grimy expanse of tiles up to a position opposite the stall from which the voice had flowed. Then, he began to count. Mentally enumerating 10 agonizingly-long seconds within his brain, their passage saw him reach out with his dominant hand and push the loosely-set stall door inwards.

Awaiting him inside it was a smiling young woman, and a mess of semen and sexual filth unlike anything he had laid eyes on prior.

Where the girl ended and the mess surrounding her began was not immediately obvious. Seated atop a toilet several inches behind the mouth of the stall, the swell of her proportions made the mess-splattered confines of the box appear that much more narrow than they were in reality. Considered alongside the colors, splotches, and smears of gunk plastered to her face and clothing, one could have very easily mistaken her as a bubbly (but no less sordid) fixture permanently grafted to the restroom itself.

Of course, she wasn’t. Complementing the pube-flecked smile on her face were soft grey eyes alight with invitation and a bobcut of whispy black hair caked together in certain spots by the same substance smeared to her face, chest, and thighs. Below her face, breasts more than twice the size of her skull sat tightly-packaged underneath a black t-shirt utterly drenched in the same greasy, yellow-beige tar that muddied her hair. But, unlike her face, the sheer volume of the substance caked atop the garment made much of its fabric invisible. If not for the fact that the bottom half of her fabric-gloved cleavage was far less consumed by the substance (this owed to the fact that the chunked sludge was incapable to flowing as a normal fluid might), determining the color of her shirt from underneath it would have been far more difficult.

In any other case, the near J-cup mass of the young woman’s breasts relative to the petite litheness of the rest of her frame would have maintained Gulio’s attention for far longer. Natural, dough-stuffed teardrops that consumed so much of a female torso were far from common. Within the confines of the stall, however, it was the excess of sludge splattered against these breasts that commanded his attention.

Its smell and coloration told him that it was semen. Really, it was the pubic hair glued to the corners of the young woman’s lips that had alerted him to this fact, but these features truly drove home what he was looking at. For reasons he did not yet know, the smiling young woman had allowed herself to be covered with a volume of disgusting semen sufficient to submerge the top of her cleavage underneath an inconsistent blanket of vibrant reproductive pulp. And, if the state of her face was any indication, she had likely consumed a comparable amount of it herself.

Together, these sights connected his earlier realization with one more novel. This young woman—an adorable mixture of obscene femininity and nubile cuteness—was what had drawn so many men into the alley for months on end. Whether for profit or by force, she was their jizz toilet…

And a very exceptional one at that.

“Oh, did you not bring any condoms with you?” out of nowhere, Gulio’s stunned arousal was again interrupted by the congested cuteness of the young woman’s voice. “Everybody seems t’like it when I eat ‘em where they can see, but I guess you must be one of those guys who prefers to flush their **chunky fucking baby-snot** straight into a girl’s stomach.”

“That’s okay. I like those guys best—just don’t tell anyone we cheated, okay?”

By virtue of her speaking out, Gulio’s line of sight was drawn back up to the young woman’s face. Just as soon as eye-contact was established between the pair, the young woman undid the cheerful smile on her face via a sluggish parting of her semen-greased lips. Peeling them just far enough apart to expose the mess of yellow-white smears glazed across the pinks of her oral cavity, she subsequently tilted her skull backwards to ensure that her latest suitor would be forced to lay eyes on the sight.

Then, she exacerbated it. Reaching down with her left hand, she deftly scooped up a trio of items left to ‘settle’ atop her lap. Invisible right up until the ascension of her hand pulled them above the height of her breasts, she raised all three of the brightly-colored items up to a suggestive dangle above her spread lips.

Presented here, their identities became unambiguous. Hanging from between the creases of her fingers were three well-used and untied condoms. Two a dull sky blue and one bubble gum pink, all three were bloated with a nauseating, boiled-egg-sized dollop of the same chunked mire congealed to the top half of her frame.

As teased by their placement, these sacs did not remain exposed to the open air for long. One by one, the young woman lowered her finger-suspended sacs into a brief kiss with the exterior of her lips before loudly slurping the sex-greased semen pouches between them. Ingested with only a handful of seconds in between their disappearances, a cock-fattening *SLURP!* indicative of their compression across the back of her throat sounded out each time one was taken into her mouth.

As far as Gulio could tell, the young woman was not pulling the sacs into her mouth to chew their contents out into her mouth. Based on the smoothness of her slurping and the absence of signage that she was swallowing, he reasoned that she had only ingested them as far as the back of her throat—this with all of the ease of a young woman happily slurping down a heady bubble tea, or some other shit that costs like 8 dollars a cup. I fuck with caramel macchiatos. But you can’t get that shit more than like once a month unless you stack paper. Which I guess you might.

Though this was not something that he needed to be convinced of, confirmation for his suspicions was provided immediately after the young woman consumed her final condom. 

This time angling her skull back down towards its natural position, she kept her lips parted, and outstretched her tongue ever so slightly. In doing so, the untied ends of the condoms she had ingested as layered atop one another across the back end of her tongue-face were flashed up at the man above her in all of their whorish glory.

At the sight of this, the monstrous erection growing at Gulio’s crotch was fattened to fruition. He couldn’t help himself—not only had the young woman swallowed three condoms, but she had managed to hold them within the back of her throat without visible difficulty.

Following their presentation, a single, monumental *GLORP* preceded a compression of the semen-sacs through her esophagus, and her voice’s return to the confines of the stall.

“You must be nice and hard now, right  ♥ ?”she suggested, voice no less addled by congestion than before. “I’ve got a bunch of these that I gotta get rid of, but three is kinda a lot even before me. Since you wanna dump everything into my tummy raw, d’you wanna help me wash everything down now? I promise it’ll be way more fun than just making me drink it or something, hehe.”

Having been addressed directly (and dragged back into reality as a result), Gulio was left with no other choice but to finally speak to the jizz-plastered young woman as an individual.

“Aren’t you going to…you know…” speaking gingerly, all of the uncertainty contained within his voice was quietly counteracted by a steady rise of his hands up from his sides. “Asphyxiate from that? I don’t know how much you do this kind of shit, but wouldn’t swallowing more just make it harder to clear?”

To this, the young woman simply shook her head.

“Nope. If you pour out your babyjuice into my throat, I’ll have no choice but to drink it. All of the slime n’condoms and stuff in my esophagus will get flushed  _ riiiiiight _ down into my tummy.” she explained, teasingly. “So the more you fuck out into my sloppy little face-cunt, the more you’re helping me  ♥ .”

“And you wanna help me  _ lots _ , don’t you?”

Gulio did not need any more motivation than this. Having already been in the midst of exposing himself, the young woman’s attribution of ‘helpfulness’ to the desires festering within the back of his brain saw him discard all pretense. Abruptly, he took hold of the loosened waistline of his pants and viciously wrenched them down across his thighs to expose the full-blown erection packaged at his crotch to the young woman’s line of sight.

At this, the airy demeanor that the young woman projected melted into something blended between focus and astonishment. As soon as she laid eyes on Gulio’s cock, a switch was turned within her brain. She did not lose herself to thoughts concerning it, and she was not moved to hungrily consume the phallus as though her life depended on it. The sight and scent of the raging erection simply shifted her priorities from capricious speech to observation and inhalation.

Like the vast majority of the cocks that were presented to her, this one owned a mild sheen of unwashed grease and a stench that suggested it had gone several days without a proper wash. Unlike them however, this one owned a dark brown complexion as opposed to the muddied-clay-colored monstrosities she saw most often. Owning a bloat just slightly thicker than her average-sized calves and a length bordering 14 inches, its size was considerably more menacing than what had become the usual for her as well. Numerous blood vessels swelled to the size of slugs and earthworms lined its face and branched away from one another as the roots of a tree. Inexplicably, their trailing over top and underneath one another made her imagine it as a loaf-shaped organism designed to tempt her.

In the initial seconds following its exposure, her foremost priority became tracking the wriggling and squirming of these veins around the phallus-fattening stagnancy of the urethra bisecting her new partner’s cock. Past this point—after several full breaths of the blended stench of cockjuice and sweat that bled from its every pore—further observation of the throbbing fleshtrunk became purposeless. Laying eyes on the measured bush of sweat-glazed pubic hair at its root failed to excite her, and the pent, purple-brown coloration of his glans failed to put a mischievous smile on her face.

She was already in love. Mere seconds spent in the reeking phallus’ presence had clamped her thighs against one another in resistance of a burning stimulation ignited within her uterus. Within a half-minute, this stimulation was intensified to the point at which a sizeable eruption of thickened cunt syrup noisily splattered out against the face of her panties (and to a lesser extent, the flesh of her inner thighs).

Before she could come down from the momentary high she had ascended to, a much more visceral (and purposeful) form of stimuli was plunged straight down her throat. 

All of the time that she had spent in her wide-eyed, orgasmic stupor was time that her suitor spent gripping the root of his shaft with his dominant hand whilst outstretching his subordinate towards her skull. Without warning, a rigid encapsulation of a fraction of her semen-addled hairdo was complimented by a vicious inward wrench of her skull. Met halfway by a thrust from the man’s hips, the force that backed both of these actions resulted in the virile monstrosity she had squirted to being gored between her lips through to a half-length depression into her esophagus. Completed behind a sodden *GLURK* birthed from the greasy phallus spreading the semen-smeared depths of her gullet, the young woman quickly found herself set on her way to obtaining a very different kind of euphoria.

Straight behind this partial insertion came a series of heavy, musculature-backed thrusts from her suitor. One stab at a time, he petitioned her seasoned throatpussy to accommodate additional inches of his sweat-glazed member into its depths with all of the domineering ruthlessness she had come to cherish. Reaped from each of these gutting thrusts was a muted regurgitation of semen and mucus from her nostrils, and fluid-backed *GLUKS  ♥ * born of her innards enveloping an additional fraction of his cock.

A half dozen of these were all that was required to see her nose buried into the sweaty bush of pubic hair she had laid eyes on seconds prior. Subsequently—and all too effortlessly—her suitor turned the depression of his cock down her throat into a pleasure-starved gutting of its depths.

For a self-proclaimed public semen-toilet, such a circumstance amounted to heaven. Thus, even when faced with the replacement of her oxygen supply with musk and a bruising engorgement of her neck with cockmeat, the young woman denied her frame protest.

She simply sat and enjoyed herself…

Just as any other flesh toilet would.

-

_ ‘BRYCE’S DICK JUICE REPOSITORY ’ _

_ *Questionably-drawn self-portrait of an ambiguously-aged young woman giving the viewer a thumbs up whilst sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth* _

_ Coat my face with baby juice and stuff my tummy with it while you’re at it! My name’s Bryce in case you’re curious, but you can call me mean stuff as well. As long as you give me plenty of muddy dick juice to chug, I’m happy  _ ♥ _. _

__

_ I hope you’ll come again soon! _

Approximately a half minute into drilling his crotch in and out against the young woman’s face, happenstance drew Gulio’s eyes towards a laminated piece of paper taped to the left side of the stall’s interior. According to the colored handwriting spread across its center and the self-portrait set above it, the young woman’s whose neck was now swelled with his member was named Bryce.

Contrary to a vast number of perverse implications, she was not a prostitute. If the text she had written was to be believed, she was no more than a young woman intent on ingesting the gelatinous tadpole-sludge of any man willing to give it to her. To what end remained unclear, but the absence of any ‘listed prices’ for her services alongside the open invitation she provided suggested to Gulio that it was semen itself that she sought more so than anything else.

To him, the simplicity of it all was almost a shame. For as little attention as he devoted to the truth of the matter—this after discovering Bryce’s name—the sensations offered by her throat and esophagus as combined with how her frame handled his thrusts made her services seem like something that she ought to have monetized.

Right from the hilting of his shaft down her throat, Gulio spared her absolutely nothing in the way of leniency. At this, his grasp on the hair he had used to drag her skull inwards tightened to the point that the outline of several small veins were pushed up against the skin of his forearm. In time with this, he began wrenching his crotch inwards and onwards with only his hips such that a third of his erection’s length was dragged out from between Bryce’s crotch-pillows per thrust. The goal of the breakneck metronome was simple: a masturbatory gutting of the taut, semen-gunked cocksleeve housed behind her throat that favored mashing as much of his pent shaft against its meat as possible.

Fundamentally, the rapid-fire strokes were guaranteed to accomplish this. Each time he plunged his cock inwards, the top most inches of his cock were depressed from the upper reaches of Bryce’s esophagus down towards their stopping point over halfway through it. Whilst descending, a gluey resistance born of the semen caked to the tube’s interior and the crushing, wave-like convulsions conducted through its inflamed meat treated the roughly-hewn exterior of his cock to a bliss well beyond what an ‘average’ throat could offer. To return to its ‘hilt-point’ within the hole, his spire was made to push through a congested passageway capable of oppressing the meat of his shaft and molesting the sensitive bloat of its veins. His subjecting himself to these conditions at such a feverish pace only served to enhance and conjoin the sensations themselves. From his glans straight down to the midsection of his cock, every inch of cockmeat concerned was made to squish through what felt like an elongated cervix inundated with lubrication.

Wrenching himself outward offered a very different (yet equally effective) experience. Though only a fraction of his cock was peeled from between Bryce’s lips per thrust, dislodging himself in this manner resulted in his cock being dogged by a pressurized constriction generated between her oral cavity and throat. As if designed for the express purpose of kneading revoltingly-masculine pillars of cockflesh into orgasm, her gullet resisted even the slightest dispossession of his meat from its confines.

As was the case with the compression applied by its depths, her orifice’s disposition did not slow the rate at which he reeled himself from her depths. It did, however, make the beginnings of her G.I tract feel much more ‘alive’ than they were in truth. Each time the mess-mired root of his cock was extracted behind a splutter of throatslop and semen, the pulling sensation that tugged at the vein-coated flesh above these inches was perceived by Gulio as his flesh somehow being adhered to the inner-lining of Bryce’s esophagus.

Oscillating between the accentuation of one of these stimuli types and the minimization of the other was by itself potent enough to drain a man dry within minutes—hence Gulio’s commitment to them. Yet, minutes into executing them, additional pleasures unique to the throatpussy he had stumbled upon were heaped upon his tolerance one after another.

In the end, all of Bryce’s abnormalities as a young woman were in some way measured by her frame’s occasionally producing a ‘realistic response’ to its stuffing. At the minute point of Gulio’s efforts, the thus-far mildly-slovenly skewering of her throat was made considerably messier by a heavy regurgitation of partly-digested seed out from the corners of her lips and the entirety of her nostrils. Induced after an especially well-placed hilt disturbed the volume of condoms and semen swirling within her throat, a momentary contraction of her esophagus was followed by a grotesque burst of chunks straight against his crotch. Sized such that Gulio’s pubes and her own crotch-pressed facial features were drenched in the substance, the eruption brought with it Bryce’s first wince of discomfort.

Seeing this, Gulio was presented with the idea that the fat-breasted cocksleeve he was abusing was still in some sense a young woman. For as well as she could manage a cock down her throat, she was not yet capable of quelling her body’s natural response to abuse.

Throughout the seconds of thrusting that followed, Gulio became certain of this. On top of the natural ‘glutting’ of the noises produced as his cock was jammed in and out of her mouth (this being a transition from gooey glurks to a mixture of clops and gurgles), Bryce’s puking heralded an outflow of tears from her eyes, an uninterrupted dribble of semen from her nostrils, and the occasional yoking of additional semen from her stomach into a sordid splatter of his crotch.

Invigorated with both satisfaction and a depraved sort of arousal, Gulio redoubled the aggression of his thrusting efforts. Unbeknownst to him, his doing so nevertheless resulted in his providing his tiny partner with exactly what she wanted.

For all of the slobbish inconsistencies that had invaded her milking of Guilio’s member, Bryce’s commitment to absorbing the blows drilled past her lips hadn’t faded. If anything, it was now stronger than ever. Not only did she now have two meals to look forward to (all of the cum inside her latest suitor’s balls and the half-digested mire she had splattered against his crotch), but the mess she had made had spurred him on to even more aggression. Together, these things constituted something far more potent than mere motivation.

For her, they were utterly intoxicating.

“Wow~! All of the cum that was stuck near my tummy is getting fucked out! I’m spewing out so much cock juice onto his crotch I almost feel kinda empty on the inside  ♥ .” she cooed to herself, eyes open and aware despite their whites being progressively irritated by the semen smeared against her face. “It felt just as chunky and squirmy coming up as it did when I swallowed it. Getting to chug such virile babyjuice like this really is the best  ♥ .”

Though her frame was not yet the whorish monstrosity that she desired it to be, her mind had experienced intoxication of this sort several times before. Thus, whereas all of the thoughts that she entertained were dominated by degeneracy, the manner in which she produced them was extremely casual. To her, ruminating on her reality like this was no different than a less ‘addled’ individual setting time aside to dwell on an especially enjoyable portion of their day.

Naturally, her maintaining this mindset allowed her to continue ‘ruminating’ even as the spiking of her suitor’s crotch against her face began making noises akin to the plumping of a sopping wet, insemination-starved cunt.

“I wonder how I’m gonna slurp up everything I puked out this time? It hardly got any thinner from me chewing and swallowing it, and I only seem t’be puking up more of it…” she mused, genuine curiosity enveloping her tone. “Maybe I’ll gargle it this time, first? Whatever this guy pumps into my tummy is gonna stay there, but everything else I should be able to manage that way, right? I mean, I’ll have to suck that  **disgusting fucking sludge** out of his pubes before anything else, so maybe I should focus on that first. I can’t let myself waste any of the cum I got from the others…”

Running through scenarios for her future whilst still experiencing her present slowly turned Bryce’s attention towards the man in control of her fate. Focusing her bleary line of sight off of the sodden pubes and cockroot ahead of her face, she bent it up towards eye contact with her nameless guest. Continually dazed each time a potent *PLORP* signaled another hilting of semen-glazed cockmeat down her throat, her completion of this task came nearly a minute after she embarked on it.

Awaiting her was a much more measured take on the sneers that male’s directed towards her whilst using her throat. Embedded into an eyeless visage obscured by an excess of shaggy black hair, the only thing that she could take away from it was masculine pleasure. Like all of the males that had come before him, he was enjoying himself—so much so that this enjoyment was bleeding into his demeanor as well.

In her experience, signage such as this could only mean that the ‘end’ she sought was not very far off.

“He’s sooooo happy, huh? Gutting my throat pussy and bruising my face like this gonna make him cum super hard…  ♥ ” she thought, airily. “I hope he lets out lots n’lots!. I know he’s got so much gross dick sludge built up, so he should just forget about everything and flush it into my fuckin’ face  ♥ .”

“That’s what I’m here for. I exist so that fat-dicked perverts like you have something to blow their cum into. So do it: gimme another load of stinky dickmilk so choke myself on! Make me fucking digest it!”

As if in response to the mewling repeated within her mind, the thrusting chain responsible for blending the depths of her throat came to an end. Suddenly re-pinned to the root of the man’s shaft, the focal point of her reality became the sound of his cock throbbing inside her throat.

Bryce recognized this sound. She was going to be filled again—messily, angrily, and right to the brim of her capacity.

It was only a matter of time.

-

**YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN I WROTE THE SAME STORY FOR 8 MONTHS AND THAT SHIT WAS JUST 1 RUN ON PARAGRAPH FOR 30 PAGES?**

For a split second, Gulio went numb. The pleasant warmth in his musculature disappeared, as did all of rigid tightness strewn into it. Save his cock and balls, the entirety of his frame may as well have been ghosted from existence.

And rightly so. After minutes spent feeding the vile payload of semen within him to the point of eruption, a double-threaded rope of the stinking, pent -up sludge finally burst from the base of his cock to its root. Snaking through his urethra as a bulbous, overfed resin through a fleshy molding frame, its ultimate ejection from the nose of his shaft subjected him to a level of stimulation that almost shut his mind off for good.

It was not as though he lacked experience in spewing a pent-up load into some humid hole. As a man, this sensation was one that he was all too familiar with. Rather, it was the composition of his latest orgasm’s initial strand of seed and the pace at which others followed it that resulted in his debilitation.

Following a pressurized ascent up the length of his cock, a grimy sludge-strand more so yellow that white was spewed out into the lower reaches of Bryce’s esophagus. Lumpy and thick whilst spread and bulbous and clotted when compressed, the putrid paste adhered itself to the already-gunked lower reaches of the tube as a form of overheated clay or partially-melted cheese. If left as delivered, the vertical flourish maintained both the protein-content and squirming, life-filled thickness to congeal itself at this position for days on end.

The semen strands blurted out behind it ensured that no such ‘congealing’ came to pass…

At least not within her esophagus.

One at a time, similarly battered and lengthy threads of nut were spewed out across paths comparable to the first. Typically flopping over top their progenitor and occasionally streaking out to either side of it, the chained chunks of tadpole collectively stressed the volume of this initial strand into a sluggish descent towards Bryce’s stomach. They did not manage this exclusively, however. Just as their placement stressed the first, the repeated compilation of additional blurts against them progressively contributed to a mudslide-esque slow-roll of clotted jizz through her esophagus.

A half minute into Gulio’s orgasm, the cycle of strand placement and descent became the dominant form of ‘motion’ with regard to his seed. Its progression borrowed nothing from the orgasmic convulsion of the smooth muscle surrounding it, and for some reason managed to clear some of the more thinly filled condoms pasted to the tube’s depths directly into Bryce’s stomach.

Utterly ignorant to everything that did not pertain to his orgasm, Gulio failed to recognize that a pattern had been birthed from his euphoria. Fittingly, he was also caught completely off-guard when this pattern was replaced by something else.

Feeling her stomach swelled closer and closer to a satisfying bloat, a hazy-eyed Bryce made demands of her frame that even the most whorish of young women typically avoided. Whereas she  _ could _ have allowed peristalsis to manage the remainder of her suitor’s orgasm, she intentionally contracted the inside of her esophagus to deny the organ this option.

After a load-fattening compression of Gulio’s member (and a monstrous engulfment of its flesh several inches deeper into her gullet), the primary effect wrought from this was a ‘direct insemination’ of the confines of her stomach. Suddenly drawn far too close together to facilitate the spread of chunked jizz strands across its exterior, the inner lining of her esophagus became a narrow passage through which Gulio’s seed was forced. Succinctly, whereas the strands were originally allowed to layer atop one another following expulsion, the compactness of Bryce’s innards now forced their contents through to a uniform, straight-on slither into her stomach.

Behind the creation of this ‘direct insemination’ appeared her contraction’s secondary effect. Abruptly, the tepid *SHLRSH*(es) produced as semen was squeezed through the lower reaches of her esophagus were replaced by raucous *GLORPS*. Produced as a compliment for each strained injection of semen into her stomach, the qualities that they maintained (i.e. those of mud’s flushing through a pliant tube) made it sound as though Bryce was chugging cake-batter, or perhaps even cement.

Potent as Bryce’s efforts appeared, the imposition of an ‘orderly descent’ on such audibly-orifice-clogging semen was no less liable to result in the clogging of her esophagus. Fundamentally, it could only slow the rate at which it occurred, or localize its placement more closely to her stomach. However, as Gulio’s member had been dragged several inches closer to her stomach to begin with, the distance that his seed-strands were made to travel before splattering out into a nasty collision with the sea of condoms of cock juice contained within her stomach was contracted such that no blockages were allowed to form.

Born from the ubiquity of Bryce’s efforts was a direct flooding of Gulio’s nut into her stomach—a circumstance adored by the latter party and simply ‘enjoyed’ by the former. Whereas Gulio was content to enjoy a stronger draining sensation throughout the latter half of his orgasm, Bryce’s accomplishment of this compression convinced her that her milking of her suitor’s cock was now legitimate. Regardless of the consequences reaped from her doing so and the cunt-drenching that was being poured into her stomach, she could now assert that she was serving the purpose that a cock-toilet ought.

For her, this was everything.

“Hehe~ N-Now m-my tummy’s taking it all…” she thought to herself, tone riddled with ecstasy. “Now he has no excuse not to pump all of his chewy baby juice inside of me  ♥ . I thought I had l-lots in me before, b-but it seems like he has enough to a-actually fill me up again…”

“I-I sure hope my insides d-don’t start—”

Needless to say, some form of consequence for Bryce’s tightening of her throatpussy was inherent. Taxed towards fullness far more quickly than it would have liked, the swill-bloated confines of her stomach began to contract in kind. Far too taken up with her semen induced high, Bryce failed to recognize these contractions until they finally amounted to something—this something being the human stomach’s primary response to ‘displeasure’:

Purging.

“urp—BUHEWWW ”

Following a surge of *GLORP* noises, a second eruption of condom-riddled semen burst from Bryce’s crotch-pinned lips and nostrils. Pushed up through her esophagus around the still-erect girth of Gulio’s cock, the blended flourish burst from the creases of her mouth in the form of several mountainous splutters. Each occurring in a manner comparable to the segmented heaving of a more typical instance of regurgitation, the burbled outflows applied yet another fetid layer of reproductive fluid against the face of his crotch within seconds..

Having already entertained a single layer of the substance, the steady application of a second did not result in the region somehow becoming ‘filthier’. Instead, when plastered past the point of recognition, the mess that Bryce produced past this point was, in a sense, rebounded against her own face. After a certain point, each of her smothered heaves resulted in a garish descent of arced sheets of semen down across her chin. Some descending into contact with her mess splattered breasts and others blasted across the edges of her jaw with enough force to glue their contents in place, their outflow resulted in the same lurid caking of semen and pubic hair visible at Gulio’s crotch being applied to Bryce’s face (in a manner of speaking).

Impressively, Bryce returned to her usual self at the same moment that her stomach was emptied to half capacity. With this, she turned her attention to ensuring that the remainder of Gulio’s orgasm was ‘cleanly’ delivered into her stomach. 

Upon accomplishing this (via a combination of effortful gulping and concentration), she began peeling herself backwards. Taking advantage of the loosened grasp on her skull, she fought her way through inch after inch of discharge-riddled retraction until her lips were forced to abandon the gooey vicegrip they had applied to his meat.

At last unencumbered, her thoughts snapped back to the same topic they had abandoned at the beginning of Gulio’s orgasm:

Ingesting as much semen as she possibly could.

“Hehe, thanks a bunch for filling me so much! I ended up making an awful mess, so I’m gonna start sucking everything off of your crotch now, ‘kay?”

“Um…”

“’kay? Helloooooo?”

“Oh, you’re all drained now, huh? Alrighty; I’ll just take that as a yes  ♥ .”


End file.
